Deliverance
by C. Capleton
Summary: Ungatt Trunn, mangled and destroyed from the duel, finds deliverance in the hands of a stranger.


Deliverance

Deliverance

C. Capleton

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or claim to own any of Brian Jacque's work.

**Author's Note:** Hey! This is my first story, it's a simple one-shot, written once through, reread once, and put up to FanFiction pretty quickly. This isn't pre-written; it's just coming to me as I write it. Maybe I'll turn it into a multi-chapter story; maybe I'll rewrite it later. Who knows? I hope you enjoy. Please review with your thoughts! – C.C.

--

The waves hugged the sand of the southern shores. It was a bright summer day, and all of nature was calm. There was naught a disturbance on the entire shore.

Save for one.

Slowly snaking its way to the shore, a lifeless lump clutching to a sea-worn piece of wood slithered in and out with the waves. A seagull landed on the mass, preening it feathers. When the creature under it let out a small moan, the seagull flew away, squawking. The lump soon reached the sandy shores, but the creature had no strength left in its body to move it out of slipping back into the sea.

Spitting up seawater, the wildcat's twisted form writhed and throbbed with pain. Ungatt Trunn let out a soft groan. Things were coming to him in flashes; the duel; the badger's face, from nightmare to reality; and Groddil, his once-faithful Groddil, who had pushed him back out to sea.

Pain shot up his leg as he tried to move. Letting his body remain still, Ungatt closed his now-milky eyes and prepared to die.

But death would not come. Try as he may, his lungs still sucked in one more ragged lungful of sharp sea air. Various cuts stung as the salt settled in. Ungatt felt his tail twitch involuntarily and he opened his eyes again, temporarily blinded by the bright summer sunlight.

He needed deliverance.

--

With a net and basket in hand, Bluebell the squirrel-maiden was ready for another day of fishing. Humming to herself, she headed out to the sandy shores of her favorite fishing spot and prepared her net. Tying stones in the loops, Bluebell kept her bright blue eyes focused on the task of tying the weights. Her dark brown fur bristled against the sharp sea wind, and she glanced up at the once-sunny sky. Dark thunderclouds were looming closer. Bluebell's shoulders sank. _Great_, she thought bitterly to herself. _I guess we won't have any fish tonight_…

She was so engrossed in her thoughts of supper that she did not notice the lump crawling towards her. Bluebell threw the net out into the sea, in a vain hope, and sat down on the damp sand and waited.

She was drifting off into her own world again when she felt something tug on her long, bushy tail. She turned to see what it was and shrieked at the horrific sight in front of her. A mangled wildcat, his fur damp from the sea, one eye shut, the other milky white, numerous cuts and bruises, and a magenta cloak wrapped around his body. Bluebell recoiled in horror and grabbed a stone. "G-g-g-get away from me!" she stammered, trying to remain brave.

The wildcat seemed to have used up all its strength to get to her. "H….help….me," he whispered in a raspy, grating voice that sent a chill down Bluebell's spine. Still slightly shaken, Bluebell refused to go any nearer.

"Help…" the wildcat begged, and began to cough up a solution of seawater and blood. Bluebell's pretty nose wrinkled in disgust and she swallowed back the bile that was building up in her throat. The stench itself was almost too much to bear. But the creature was just so pitifully vulnerable. Bluebell's bushy tail curled with pity for the mangled creature in front of her.

A soft mist began to settle over the shore. Bluebell looked up at the sky and saw the dark clouds coming even closer. Disregarding her net and the rain, she rummaged through her bag until she found an ointment she carried around for cuts. Grabbing some leaves from a seashore plant she hoped wasn't poisonous, Bluebell dabbed some of the ointment onto the leaves and rubbed them into the creature's wounds. The lump let out a few noises of pain and discomfort, but Bluebell persisted until she was sure she had covered them all.

She settled into the sand and laid the wretched creature's head upon her lap and stroked the fur away from his eyes. She dripped some water into his parched throat from her flask and stole another glance up at the sky. The misting had turned into soft summer drizzling, but Bluebell knew from experience that these summer drizzles could suddenly explode into terrifying thunderstorms.

Bluebell heard the wildcat mutter something. "What did you say?" she whispered softly.

"Thank you," the wildcat responded hoarsely.

--

Ungatt remembered the squirrel that he had caught in his once-glorious castle. She had shaven her tail, and had spoken to him in a strange tone. This squirrel was so different; she was scared, but she was gentle. Ungatt turned his milky eyes to her, and she quickly looked away. He didn't blame her. He must look terrible. But yet she took the time to care for him, to clean his wounds, and sat with him, even as the thunderclouds darkened the once-bright skies.

Ungatt closed his eyes as he reminisced about his life. Constant comparisons and competitions with his brother, Verdauga; bitter hate towards perfectly innocent creatures; a greed that consumed him and blackened his heart. And now all he yearned for was to see one more winter, to see one more spring, to see the flowers open up and glisten with the morning dew.

A warm hand touched his brow gently. Ungatt strained to keep from coughing blood on the maiden. His angel. She dripped some more water into his mouth, which he greedily swallowed, down to the last drop. He felt a strange sensation on his skin and opened his eyes. His fur was damp again, and the squirrel maiden was drenched.

"Don't…leave," he whispered pitifully, panic sinking in that she might leave him at nature's mercy. Flashes of the badger suddenly exploded in bursts in his mind, and he recoiled in pain and horror.

The squirrel enveloped him in her warm arms and waited until the spasms passed. "I won't leave," she assured him, and smiled at him gently.

--

Just as quickly as the thunderstorm passed, the sunlight was back. Ungatt's eyelids fluttered open as his fur slowly dried. He could no longer move his arms or legs, and just rolling his eyes up towards his savior was difficult. He kept his eyes adoringly on her face. The squirrel tended to his wounds again, but Ungatt no longer felt the pain or sting from the ointment. He was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Do you think you'll be all right soon?" the squirrel asked him cheerfully. The sun had raised her spirits.

Ungatt managed a smile. He didn't want to break her heart. "I'll…b-be fine." He whispered, and suppressed a cough.

The squirrel brightened visibly. "Great! I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

Ungatt closed his eyes and settled into the warm sand, and he heard the sound of her feet scurrying away.

His whole body was numb now. Ungatt could barely muster up the energy to breathe. His mind was racing; his father; his brother; his horde; the badger; the fire mountain; his spiders; Groddil; his traitorous captains; his loving, doting savior, who didn't know any of the horrible things he had done.

He darkened at the thought of his squirrel maiden knowing what he had done. He felt no remorse for his actions; and yet, he felt a burning hunger to make the squirrel happy, to keep her safe and healthy as she had tried for him.

His seizures were triggered at his wave of emotions, and presently Ungatt found himself struggling for breath. He gripped the sand involuntarily and jerked, causing sand to fly about. His whole mind began to dim and soften, and Ungatt went limp. He had given up fighting it.

He heard feet scurry back. "Are you okay? Are you okay?" she called to him. He felt her soft paws on his face. He opened his eyes, but he shut them immediately as his spasms erupted once more.

After a grueling battle with his body, Ungatt knew it was time to go. With one last momentous burst of energy, he touched her paw with his own mangled claw and smiled at her, before closing his eyes and finally resting.

This was the day of Ungatt Trunn.

--


End file.
